46 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Jan. 21 
JANET THORN'S TEMPER. 
MKS. F. M. HOWARD. 
Chap. II. 
(Continued.) 
“ I s’pose there’s plenty o’ homestead 
land left to take up ?” Abel now joined 
in the conversation. He was not a man 
of general information, and had confined 
his literary efforts to the reading of the 
town paper mainly. 
“ Well, no. I guess you’ve come a little 
late for that,” passing his hand over his 
heavy gray mustache to hide a smile. 
“ So far as I know, Iowa has no wild 
lands except those held for sale by the 
railroad companies. You’ll have to go on 
to western Nebraska or Dakota to find 
government land now.” 
Abel’s face fell. The march of civil¬ 
ization had gone on ahead of his calcula¬ 
tions at a quick step, and for a moment 
he felt stranded. 
“ You can find plenty of good farms to 
rent though if you are not in a situation 
to buy,” resumed the stranger. “ I live 
in Clinton County myself; came there 
when Clinton City was a little lumber 
village, and there isn’t a finer, more 
prosperous county in the State. You’d 
better look it over, stranger, before you 
settle.” 
“ Clinton is on the Mississippi isn’t 
it?” Janet had been studying a map of 
Iowa. 
“ Yes, ma’am, and on one of its pret¬ 
tiest points too. Just like a picture the 
scenery is all about there. Get up on 
some of those bluffs, miss, and look off 
and I tell you it can’t be beat.” They 
were running into the station of a large 
town now, and the conversation ceased 
as the stranger rose to go out, first say¬ 
ing with friendly warmth : “ Anything I 
can do to assist you, sir, in selecting a 
location I will do with pleasure,” look¬ 
ing beyond Janet and measuring her 
father’s character with quick insight. 
“A man who needs pushing and prod¬ 
ding,” he reflected as he passed down the 
aisle, “ but I like that girl. There’s 
character in her face, and it’s a pity she 
isn’t the head of the firm.” 
Mr. Harrison Graves was a dealer in 
real estate, and, upon his recommenda¬ 
tion, Mr. Thorn decided to stop over in 
Clinton and look over the ground before 
going farther. He was charmed with the 
bright, bustling little city, with its many 
conveniences and evidences of growth 
and thrift, and, calling upon Mr. Graves 
in his office, made inquiries in regard to 
the farming interests of the locality. He 
could have applied to no one better fitted 
to bring together supply and demand in 
that direction, and, in accordance with 
his offer made in the train, he brought 
around his team the day following and 
took Janet, with her father and Jimmy, 
for a drive into the country. 
Janet’s plan would have been to buy a 
farm, even with but a small sum to offer 
as a first payment, but here her father 
was obdurate. No, no, J’net: I’ve had 
a mortgage held over my head now for 
nigh 10 years, an’ I want to draw a clean 
breath again afore I die. By the time a 
man has paid taxes an’ interest, he’s nigh 
about paid his rent.” 
“ But then, father, lie’s got something 
in hand to show for it,” urged Janet. 
“ Come now, child, don’t go to argyin’ 
the pint. Wimmin can’t be expected to 
know much about business,” apologeti¬ 
cally to Mr. Graves. 
“Possibly not, sir, but if I should ex¬ 
press an opinion I should agree with your 
daughter. However, I have two farms, 
which I will show you with pleasure.” 
They soon alighted before a large, 
modern farm-house, its exterior neatly 
painted and in every particular in first- 
class order, and Janet’s eyes glistened at 
the hope of living in such a home. A 
large windmill stood to the right of it for 
drawing water, and there were ample 
barns, all in a thrifty state of good repair. 
It had but one disadvantage : it was at an 
inconvenient distance from the town, and 
had rather a lonely outlook. 
“ What might be the rent of such a 
place as this now ? ” asked Abel. 
“ We will go through the house first, 
and then talk of rents.” 
Mr. Graves had noted Janet’s eager 
pleasure, and he wished to please her by 
inducing her father to take the farm, 
though he had some misgivings in regard 
to his capacity for keeping it up to its 
present standard of excellence. 
It was a well built house and furnished 
with many conveniences which had been 
entirely lacking in the Eastern home. 
“You will take it, father,” Janet said 
anxiously, after the fields had been ex¬ 
amined and the terms talked over. 
Abel shook his head doubtfully. “ It’s 
e’en a’most too dressy for us J’net. I’m 
afraid ’twould take too much time to 
keep it up in shape, an’time’s money you 
know. I guess you’d better show us 
t’other place, squire, an’ see if we can’t 
strike a bargain there.” 
There were tears in Janet’s eyes as she 
mounted to her seat again and was driven 
away. The old home with its broken 
hinges, here and there, it’s worn door sills 
which were never replaced, and the steps 
between some of the rooms, which were 
of no earthly use but to add numberless 
steps to the hard enough work of the 
farm, had been such a trial to her that it 
seemed like a glimpse of fairy land, this 
spick and span house as her home, 
and she had thought with what pride 
and pleasure she would keep the large 
modern window glasses bright, the pretty 
paint clean, and the hard-wood floors 
polished. 
There was a redeeming feature in the 
next place to which they were driven. 
It was delightfully situated and from a 
window of the upper room which Janet 
mentally appropriated for her own if 
they should live there, there was a view 
of a most lovely landscape—hills and 
vales, a part of the town nestled in be¬ 
tween the bluffs and the river, and a blue 
bit of the river itself, down which a 
steamboat was making its way; but aside 
from this pleasant feature, the place was 
old and run down through a long course 
of neglect from former owners, or 
renters. 
The soil was rich, however, and Abel 
took up a handful in delight. “ Look at 
that sile, Jimmy,” holding out the black 
mold for inspection, “ crops would grow 
in that ere without everlastingly hoein’ 
an’ harrerin, I reckon.” 
“But won’t the weeds grow just as 
fast ?” asked Janet. 
“ Wall, yes, but give me the choice be¬ 
tween stuns an’ weeds an’ I’ll take the 
weeds every time.” 
There was no combatting Abel’s eager 
delight in the place 
His was neither a progressive nor 
exacting nature, and the familiar, shabby 
look just suited him. 
“It seems right home-like here, J’net,” 
he remarked as he accepted Mr Graves’s 
offer unconditionally. 
“ Yes, home-like, indeed,” Janet swal¬ 
lowed a disappointed sob in her throat. 
“ There’s the very twin of the old iron 
pump in the well, waiting to break 
mother’s back and mine.” 
Her words caught the owner’s ear, and 
he looked at her thoughtfully, then at 
the pump, and then made a generous res¬ 
olution. 
“ I’ll have that remedied,” he said 
cheerfully, “ and a new pump put in that 
a child can work without fatigue.” 
(To be continued.) 
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